Beautiful Rain
by Richi03
Summary: Rory finally knows what she wants.  But does he still want her?Set three years after the finale.  Lit.  Oneshot.  R&R :


Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls or any of the characters involved with it.

Author's Note: This just sort of came to me out of the blue and wouldn't get out of my head until I wrote it down.

* * *

It was raining, sheets of water coming down in curtains, but she barely noticed it as she made her way down the street. She'd parked two blocks away needing the few minutes it would take to walk to his apartment. Strands of dark hair were sticking to her pale face and mascara was beginning to run down her cheeks, but she didn't care. Her hands trembled as she reached up to press the white button that would buzz up into his apartment. It took three buzzes for him to finally answer and she'd almost given up hope when she finally heard his husky voice through the intercom.

"Who is it?"

He sounded crabby and she almost turned around and ran away. She felt herself take a couple steps back, but stopped herself. She was done with running, done with being the empty shell of a person.

"It's Rory," she said softly. Her answer was the soft buzz indicating that she could open the door. She wiped at her face, vainly attempting to get rid of the black marks streaming down her face. Her hair and clothes dripped on to the soft white carpeting of the dimly lit hallway. Her eyes searched for apartment number 204 and when she finally reached it she had to muster all the courage she had to knock softly on the door. It took him a few minutes to answer and she thought that maybe he'd changed his mind about letting her come in, but then he opened the door and it took all she had not to let herself simply fall into his arms. He made no move to let her in, simply stared at her expectantly.

"Hi," she said meekly,mentally kicking herself for only being able to utter that one word.

"What are you doing here?" His words were not cold, but neither were they warm, they were simply stoic with no emotion behind them.

"I'm not my mother," she whispered, looking up at him with hopeful blue eyes. Finally he backed up, indicating for her to follow him into his home. She stepped across the threshold, slipping her shoes off in the process. Looking around she noticed that his apartment was rather small, sparsely furnished, but neat. The only untidiness were the many books strewn out across the coffee table and the opened notebooks and pens scattered on the kitchen table.

The door closed with a soft click, but it caused her to jump, startled. She turned to face him and took in the scattered black hair and The Clash t-shirt with tattered jeans. She smiled softly, happy that some things never changed, no matter how many books he'd published or how well he was doing for himself.

"You want some dry clothes? Coffee?" He asked, his tone slightly gentle as he took in her ragged appearance. She nodded gratefully and he led her into his tiny bedroom, throwing a gray hoodie and some blue boxers on the bed for her.

"I'll go make the coffee while you change," he said gruffly, leaving her alone.

"Thank you, Jess," she said softly before he was completely out of the room. He stopped for a second and turned around shooting her a questioning glance and then he was gone.

She stripped off her wet clothes, neatly folding them and setting them on the floor next to his bed. She caressed the gray hoodie almost lovingly, she took note of the small hole at the bottom and knew it was the same one he used to wear when they were teenagers. She quietly slipped the dry clothes he'd given her on and then gathered her wet clothes up in her arms. As she left the bedroom she called out to him, "Where's the bathroom?"

"Turn left and it's the first door on the right," he yelled back.

She followed his directions and put her wet clothes in the bathtub, not wanting to leave them on the floor of his bedroom in a wet mess. She turned to face the mirror and grabbed the washcloth from the towel rack over the toilet. She softly scrubbed at her skin, taking away all traces of make-up. She stared into the mirror at her naked face, trying to think of what she would say to him when she left the safety of his small bathroom. She knew he would have questions and she would have to answer them, but she didn't know how. She didn't know how to make him understand why she'd done all that she had. After ten minutes of just standing there, she finally turned away and made her way into the kitchen.

He was standing at the counter reading a tattered copy of Howl a cup of tea next to him. There was a second mug that she knew would be filled with coffee across from him and she sat herself upon the stool in front of it and drank deeply of the sweet elixer of life.

"I'm not my mother," she repeated again, when he set the book down and stared at her expectantly.

"I think we've established that already, Rory," he said, his tone growing impatient.

"No, I mean...I don't want to be my mother. Jess, I- I grew up watching her go from relationship to relationship always messing up any chance of happiness she might of had because she couldn't admit who it was she really loved. She was too scared to go for what she really wanted. Then I had Dean and I thought it was perfect because hey I didn't really love him anyways so there was no way I'd ever get hurt by him, you know? Then you came and it was like...it was like the whole world just stopped turning and I didn't know what to do anymore. I fought it, but then I couldn't hide behind Dean anymore and there was you and me. Then you left and I was broken," she rambled, waving her hands around as she spoke.

"I knew all this already," he said to her, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah, but...I told you I wouldn't pine for you, but I did. I pined with the best of them and then you came back and said you loved me and left immediatly after it. I feel like I'm always left watching you walk away from me," there were tears shining in her bright blue eyes as she searched his for understanding.

"I always came back, Rory. You didn't want me anymore," he said to her, exhaustion in his voice.

"No. No you're wrong. I did want you, I always wanted you. I just...I couldn't say yes, Jess. I was terrified. I was terrified because you said you knew me and I knew it was true. I was terrified because I wanted to say yes. I was so utterly terrified that if I said yes and I went with you, you would just leave me again and I would be even more broken than I already was," she whispered it to him, not daring to look him in the eyes. When he said nothing she continued, "Then I went back to Dean again. A very married Dean because he was safe and I knew he wouldn't leave me and he wouldn't hurt me. Of course it ended, it had to end. Then there was Logan and I let myself believe that I was in love with him and I let myself get caught up in his kind of life and even though I hated it, I stayed. I stayed because I wanted to be over you. I stayed because, oh, for so many reasons that seem so stupid now. But I left him. He proposed and I said no and I just couldn't pretend anymore. I couldn't lie anymore. I almost came to you then, right after that, but I couldn't.

"I wouldn't let myself come to you then. I was still scared even though I'd seen that you'd changed, but how many times had my dad seemingly changed and my mom took him back, but then was only left broken again? But your not my dad and I'm not my mom and it took me too long to realize that. I don't want to keep running. I don't want to keep living like this. I don't want to keep lying to myself," she had to stop there because the tears were not falling down her face, choking her so that speech was no longer possible.

Jess stared at her, watching as her frail shoulders shook with silent sobs. He couldn't bring himself to say anything and he couldn't bring himself to go to her and comfort her. She looked so much like the sixteen year old girl he'd first fallen in love with that it squeezed his tattered heart. He could do nothing, but stand there and watch her, frozen to his spot on the other side of the small counter that separated them.

"I love you," she finally managed to utter between tears and the brick wall that he'd built around his heart crumbled into a fine dust. In an instant he was around the counter, holding her in his strong arms, stroking her back and whispering that everything would be okay now.

"It is what it is, Rory. You. Me," he said softly, but this time the words held a different meaning than the last time he spoke them. This time he wouldn't let her leave after he'd spoken them. He wiped away her tears with his thumb and then smoothed back her hair. He held her face gently in his hands as he leaned down and kissed her with all the love and passion that had built up inside of him over the years.

"I'll always love you, Rory," he said softly as she rested her head on his shoulder.

It wasn't a happy ending because their are never happy endings.

It was a beginning.


End file.
